A bushel and a peck

Leading us to holiness

I have these wee “picture lesson” cards. They were stowaways of an inheritance–treasures tucked away in a stack of books that once belonged to my grandmother’s mother. Publications of the American Baptist Society of Philadelphia, they have a photo and bible verse on one side…

A lesson on the other–complete with story, questions, prayer, and “memory thought.” In case you would have never guessed, they’re old. This one, for example, was Volume 30, 3rd Quarter, August 28, 1910.

Their age is evidenced in the lessons. Nearly all include a poem of sorts–an admonishment in rhyme. It usually has nothing at all to do with the story, excepting of course, the one on temperance: ‘If God’s own children we would be, doing his holy will, we must not touch nor even see, the wine that makes us ill.’ *snicker*

Apparently, they forgot the first miracle Jesus performed; or the fact that riding into Jerusalem for Passover, He was heading to a feast where wine was sure to flow.

Speaking of Passover, I often think of the crowd that gathered that day. They had heard the stories … tales of signs and wonders … of Jesus raising the dead, giving sight to the blind, and movement to the lame. He even forgave the likes of tax collectors and harlots. Many saw his works with their own eyes; some felt His touch themselves. The Messiah, the one they had waited for, had finally arrived. There He was, riding in on the back of donkey, not as a king of war, but as the Prince of Peace. They gave him reverence, making a carpet of garments and palm branches. Yet they had no idea what was to come. They could not fathom the price He would pay.

I dare say, we still don’t.

Oh sure, we know the the story, but I’m not sure we truly grasp the sacrifice.

But I guess that’s all part of it, isn’t it?

If we had it all together, there would be no need for a manger. If we knew how to convey the gospel, there would be no need for an example. If we were blameless, there would be no need for a cross.

So it is my prayer for you, dear readers: whether it’s just another weekend, or you intend to wave a palm branch or two, take the time to ponder the true meaning of the holiday … to consider the gift … to prepare to celebrate with a grateful heart …

Easter Sunday morning is my favorite time of the year. Absolutely. To serve a risen savior. Oh the joy! The wonderment! The absolute awe. I spend the entire day just giddy.
My recent post a Passion for Ordinary Miracles

With all the commercialism around the holidays, we often forget the reason for the celebration. Thanks for the beautiful reminder and visual. Hope you had a splendid weekend!

Comments are closed.

Greetings & salutations

Just in case you're wondering what you've gotten yourself into, my blog's a lot like life: it's a hodge-podge. So pour yourself a steaming cup of goodness, settle in, and I'll tell you all about it--whatever 'it' happens to be . . .

The fine print

Magpie & Muttonfly is the place where I write about all the things that make our stories grand. Emphasis on me, myself, and I. Any review or recommendation posted on this site is solely my own {unless otherwise noted}. Occasionally you will find a link to Amazon.com. An eternal window shopper, I only list items that strike my fancy. Any time you click the link and proceed to make a purchase, I get a wee referral fee. You will not be charged more--but once or twice a year I earn enough to purchase a tin of my favorite tea. So I do thank you for that!